


Mutual Discovery

by chaosfay



Series: Alistair and Jasmine [6]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 07:01:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3110441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaosfay/pseuds/chaosfay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This takes place immediately after speaking to Eamon in Redcliffe.  They haven't gone to Orzammar yet.  This is also the first time Jasmine Amell and Alistair make love/have sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mutual Discovery

Upon arriving in their room they find food waiting for them, as well as a hot bath complete with soap, towels, and a fresh change of clothes for both of them.  Alistair nearly lunges for the food, forgetting about the filthy armor he still has on him.  “Wait.”  Jasmine’s firm tone stops him just as he’s about to grab a turkey leg.  She pulls him away and immediately sets to removing his armor.  Without hesitating he also begins unbuckling the pieces he can reach with ease.  In a matter of minutes they have his armor off, and soon have the padding removed as well.  Now in just a simple sweat stained tunic, leggings, and boots, they both wash their hands before digging into the meal.  Their Warden appetite results in them consuming it all very quickly.  A small feast for anyone else it’s just barely enough to leave them both satisfied.  Nothing but bones is left of the meal.  Leaning back in their seats they finally look at one another and start laughing.  “For someone so small you can certainly eat.”  
  
"Oh, hush.  You’re worse than I am, eating like an animal."  Rising from her seat, "speaking of animals, we smell worse than Frenzy {note: that’s the name of her mabari hound}."  Jasmine heads over to the tub waiting for them in the corner of the room.  "At least we were able to wash up in that pond last night.  We’ll be able to get a decent soak without darkspawn blood coloring the water."  She chuckled a moment before turning back to look at him.  "Do you intend to just sit there, or are you going join me?"  
  
Alistair’s mouth opened and closed a couple times, face sheet white than bright red as he realized what she said.  With shaky legs he made his way over to her.  Jasmine had already started removing the layers of clothing she was wearing.  First the large robe, now a series of patches from being nearly torn to shreds by the dragon guarding the Urn of Sacred Ashes.  Her enchanted gloves and boots were next.  Alistair approached her before she could remove the breast band and small clothes.  
  
All across her back and legs were small scars from the various wounds she had suffered over the previous months, sword slashes, various stab wounds, even a couple arrows.  It was the front of her she was most apprehensive about.  She had never been naked in front of anyone before, and the large scars left by the dragon that nearly killed her had taken what confidence she had away.  Jasmine nearly died, and didn’t have the strength to heal herself quickly enough, allowing for the scars to form.  Now so distracted by her inner thoughts she doesn’t realize she’s trembling and covering herself with her arms.  
  
Alistair had long since removed his clothing, leaving himself in only his small clothes.  He immediately notices Jasmine tense up.  He had been there when the dragon attacked, and knew she would forever carry the visible markings of what happened.  He had made no move to see her without her clothing on, to be intimate beyond heated kisses and touching.  She hadn’t been ready, and he had never been with anyone intimately.  Having been raised in the Chantry and trained to be a templar Alistair knew not to push.  A gentleman always.  He stepped directly behind her, taking her into his arms, his own crossing over her’s.  He softly kissed her neck, and felt her slowly beginning to relax.  “If you want, I’ll turn around while you get into the water.  Will that make it easier?”  
  
Jasmine could feel herself shaking.  She wanted him so badly it hurt.  Her entire life she had been told to never be intimate.  Everyone in the Circle knew what would happen if something like that happened.  She’d seen mages sent to separate Circles when their relationship became known, and if anyone became pregnant they would never be able to hold their child; it was instantly taken away to be raised in the Chantry.  It was best to never have any of that, to never make that risk.  Now she was no longer in the Circle, had fallen in love with a man who loved her, and here she was hiding herself.  “No, don’t turn away.  Just…just promise you won’t be cruel.”  
  
"I promise."  It hurt him that she thought he would ever do such a thing, that he would ever harm her in any way.  Alistair kissed her shoulder and released her.  
  
With a simple movement on the breast band she removed it slowly.  Next she removed her small clothes, back still to him.  “Remember your promise.”  Jasmine’s voice was very small now.  Turning around, she looked away, as if waiting for him to shame her.  
  
The scars were large, four claw marks from left shoulder to right hip.  They went fully across her breasts, abdomen, stomach, and hip.  A mix of luck and magic are all that prevented her from being gutted.  He had been by her side, putting pressure on the wounds, and only now realized that even the weak shield she had put up had truly prevented things from being worse than they could have been.  Anyone else would have died from such a wound, and she had the marks to prove herself blessed by the Maker and Andraste.  
  
Alistair could only stare at her, in awe.  He places his hand on her shoulders, and noted the skin felt like warm silk beneath his touch.  The callouses brought her back out of her distant thoughts, back to awareness of who she was with.  One of his hand came to her face, turning it up to look at him.  “You’re beautiful, by the Maker, you are beautiful.”  The admiration on his face was almost too much for her, and she couldn’t help but smile.  She could feel herself blushing from her neck to her ears under his gaze.  His mouth was on her’s, soft, patient.  “How about we get in the water now?  We smell like mabari.”  
  
Nodding she turned to the tub, and tested the water.  “It’s gotten cold.  I’ll heat it up.”  As she set the water to steaming with her magic Alistair stripped bare.  Before she could turn around and see his arousal he was in the water, taking her in with him.  His mouth was on her’s again, hungrier this time.  Pushing away from him, smiling, “we stink, remember?”  Then she was under the water and back up again, hair plastered to her face.  Grabbing the soap she set to washing her hair first.  “You ought to do the same, Mr. Obsessed-With-My-Hair.”  She tossed him the soap which he easily grabbed…and dropped into the water, causing her to laugh.  
  
Making a face at her, he retrieved the soap and did the same, dipping under and coming back up.  He was laughing when he saw she had shaped her hair with the suds.  “Think this is a good look for me?”  
  
"Definitely.  I think Leliana would definitely approve.  It’s ridiculous enough to pass for Orlesian."  
  
They both erupted into laughter and finished cleaning and rinsing their hair.  The laughter did them good, helping ease the tension of being naked with each other for the first time.  Now here they were, enjoying each others company without feeling judged.  “Turn around, you need your back washed.”  Obediently Alistair turned around, and felt her hands moving the soapy sponge over his skin.  Jasmine made no secret of admiring his back though.  Moving slowly, touching each scar, each mark, feeling his back, the way the muscles moved and how firm they were.  Jasmine’s breath caught as he chuckled, as though caught in some mischief.  
  
"That tickles, you know."  Suddenly the sponge was moving more quickly, and harshly, over his skin.  Then warm water was squeezed from the sponge and down his back before being dropped in front of him.  Turning around he saw her back to him and did the same.  Though she did her best to avoid direct combat she still got hit.  Lacking the armor to protect herself resulted in deeper gashes.  As he rinsed the soap off her back he kissed each scar, each mark, on the soft fair skin of her back.  She sighed, soft moans escaping without her notice.  
  
"May I have the soap and sponge?  We need to finish cleaning up."  Her voice was small, shy, and clearly nervous.  Not wanting to push her further he relinquished the items.  Turning around she surprised him by washing his chest, shoulders, and arms for him, though she never looked at his face.  Her hands were soft, gentle, scrubbing the sweat and dirt from the road off him, thorough as a mother with a child.  She stopped before getting too low, unsure of herself.  Her face a deep red, and not from the heat of the water, she back away, looking up only a moment.  "Okay, rinse off on your own."  
  
Obeying again he sank in up to his neck to remove the soap before sitting up again.  “May I have the soap and sponge now, my dear?”  The look on his face spoke volumes.  She knew that look, and her heart quickened.  Handing them over, shaking, she waited to see what he would do.  
  
Remembering what Leliana had told him, as well as a few things Zevran has suggested (much to his surprise) he pushed her gently to rest back in the tube before he lifted one of her feet.  With soap covered hands he massaged her foot, working out the knots, noting the places she had once had blistered.  Never did she complain, limp, or wince while they walked and from the looks of her feet she had serious blistering before callouses developed  Then he heard her moan.  Leaning back in the tub, her eyes closed, Alistair knew he was doing things just right.  He moved up her leg, working the tension out of her calf, keeping his gaze on her face, though it did wander lower.  Her long neck with its soft skin, the light spatter of freckles that had continued to grow with the exposure to sunlight.  Working slowly up her leg, now under the water, he could see her scarring and wanted to kiss each of those lines.  Now he understood what Zevran meant when he said to pay attention to those parts she hid the most.  He moved his hands further, brushing the curls between her legs, causing her to become aware again and jump.  Smiling, he moved back down, starting on her other foot.  He carefully set her other leg down, making sure she didn’t feel his almost painful erection.  He focused on her again, keeping his eyes on her.  
  
Jasmine’s breathing quickened slightly, finding herself wanting.  That light touch, and the intensity of his gaze, she could feel it in her stomach.  An inner tightness she had never felt before.  As soon as he started on her other foot her head was back again.  She would have to thank whomever it was that taught him how to massage her so well.  Jasmine could feel herself relaxing in a way she couldn’t describe.  Melting wasn’t the right word; it was more than that.  It was deep, and slow.  She felt his hands move closer to her again, teasing her with the pace.  Then he brushed her again, a finger moving just over her folds before pulling away.  Brought out of the haze she saw him soaping his own legs and feet quickly, glancing at her a moment.  He looked rather proud of himself.  Surely he’s had other lovers to know how to do such a thing as that?  
  
With speed and gentle strength he pulled her toward him and turned her around, soap soaked sponge in hand. Her back against his chest, she could feel his desire between them.  His lips here on her ear, nibbling, “I’ll take care of the rest of you now.”  His voice was hungry, his breath hot.  Alistair moved the sponge over her chest with one hand, his other on her stomach, holding her gently in place.  Moving his lips down over her neck and shoulders as he washed her slowly.  He elicited moans he had never heard from her before, making it all the more painful to keep the slow pace.  Leliana’s voice echoed in his head, reminding him that taking things slow is the best, Zevran telling him to be extra gentle because both of them are unfamiliar territory.  He brought his hand up from her stomach to her soap covered breasts, relinquishing the sponge to the water.  Using both hands he moved them over her breasts, her ribs, never pressing but only teasing.  Her hands dug into his legs as her back arched, pressing her into his hands.  Taking this as a sign of encouragement he took her fully into his hands now, exploring the curves, lines, loving every sound she made, the way she moved.  Her head rolled back against his shoulder, and it took a great deal of disciplilne not to move his hands further down.  He squeezed and massaged her breasts, teasing the nipples, gently tugging and pinching.  Retrieving the sponge with one hand he worked the soap out of it before squeezing the warm water over over her, rinsing the soap off and bring her back to her senses.  Lifting her gently back to the other side of the tub, facing him, he finished cleaning up, careful now that he was practically throbbing.  He tossed her the soap as he got out of the water, keeping his back to her.  He had no idea how she’d react to him in his current state.  
  
She nethers ached.  He must have some magic in his blood with the way he worked her like that.  With shaking hands she clean up what had been missed, touching almost painful but also filled with a new pleasure.  Before she could get out of the water he had the towel ready and waiting for her.  Her legs were weak, shaking, made of wet noodles after everything he’d just done to her.  Assisting her out of the water, he wrapped her in the towel for a moment before moving it over her, drying her off himself.  She raised her arms on command, unable to believe the attention she was receiving.  Leliana had told her about what it might be like her first time, but if done right, if properly prepared, it could be an immeasurably beautiful and amazing experience.  Now Jasmine fully understood what Alistair was doing, completely aware.  She felt herself flush again with this realization, then Alistair had her legs slightly apart, the towel moving over them, drying her skin, then his hand brushed her fold again, more slowly, more deeply, before pulling away.  Dropping the towel to the floor he scooped her with ease into his arms.  She felt so small in his arms, the arms of a warrior who wore a great deal of weight in armor (she could have sworn the entirety of what he wore weighed as much as her), fought with sword and shield, and did this all with the ease and grace of a dancer.  Carrying her to the bed, she keeps her gaze on his arms, touching his chest, feeling the soft hair tickle her fingers.  
  
He lays her down gently onto the large bed, backs away, and removes his towel.  Her eyes widen a moment as her breath catches.  She’s never seen other men in this state.  Swallowing hard, he prays silently he hasn’t scared her.  She doesn’t move, and her gaze moves over his entire body.  Suddenly he feels very self conscious as he crawls onto the bed, moving over her.  Jasmine looks over his impressive body, his strength obvious, and she wants nothing more than to feel it all.  His mouth is on her’s before she can say anything, his weight on one arm, one of his legs between her own.  He doesn’t force anything, moving slowly, torturing her with his teasing.  His mouth is hungry, their tongues moving with each other as he eases her legs open further and moves his between them.  His free hand moves down her, cupping a breast.  Hands are on him, in his hair, over his arms, his shoulders, the flexed muscles hard, and distinctly masculine.  His mouth kisses her jaw, his facial hair tickling and stimulating the skin.  His free hand moves further down, large and calloused, and feels so incredibly good against her smooth skin.  
  
Jasmine feels so small, so fragile beneath his larger body.  Though her body is well toned from all the work of traveling she has a great deal of softness.  Quiet strength and soft beauty.  His hand stops at her hip for a moment as his mouth moves further down.  He kisses her neck, tasting her.  She’s sweating now, either from the excitement or his own body’s heat.  He tastes her, taking in the smell and taste of her as he moves along her shoulders, his kisses open mouth, licking her as he closes each kiss.  He slides his hand down from her hip to her thigh, loving the way she instantly responds to his touch, the way her breathing has quickened, the soft whimpers.  He squeezes her thigh, then moves his hand back up to her hip as adjusts his position.  Shifting his weight onto both elbows and slightly on his knees, he moves one hand beneath her back, the other cupping her breast, and takes her other into his mouth as he lifts her slightly off the bed.  Her back arches as he softly bites just the outside of her breast where it meets her ribcage and underarm, the sensitive spot bringing a deeper moan from her.  Kissing the spots hungrily he squeezes her other breast a little more as he rubs her hard peak between his fingers.  His mouth is over the other, taking it between his teeth as his tongue flicks over it a few times, moving quickly.  Her hands are in his hair, struggling to find something to hold onto as her hips buck.  He moves downward between her breasts, following the lines of the scars, kissing them, adoring them, loving them.  
  
No longer able to control herself completely her hands dig into the sheets as the tension builds up inside her.  Alistair’s tenderness is almost too much.  With each kiss his facial hair both tickles and stimulates her, his soft mouth, his hunger, and then the roughness.  She loves it, she hates it, she wants more, it’s too much.  She can’t get enough air, his breath is bliss, his rough hands holding her, touching her, feeling her, it’s more than she could have imagined.  
  
Alistair moves down, further, hardly able to keep the slow pace.  He keeps reminding himself it’ll hurt her if he goes too quickly.  Kissing the final edge of her scarring on her hip he moves across her now, down to between her legs, and breathes her in.  It’s intoxicating, and he wants more, needs it, desires it.  Lifting her legs onto his shoulders, he can’t wait anymore, and he gently parts her open.  The softness of her curls tickles his face, and then he inhales her deeply.  There’s no way to describe this, but he wants it.  Using what knowledge he gained from talking to Leliana he moves over her petals with his tongue.  The taste is all he needs before he’s there, wanting all of it.  He hears her voice calling out his name, wanting him, and her hips move of their own accord.  She’s soaking his face, and it’s wonderful.  No, amazing as he dedicates himself to worshiping her.  He finds her pearl and gently takes it into his mouth, sucking softly, then flicks it with his tongue and adds just enough pressure.  Her hips move again, her legs shaking.  His body tingles as a wave of electricity moves over him.  
  
She’s losing control over her power as she gets closer to release.  His tongue flattens over her, then parts the petals and flattens within them, moving up, taking her gem into his mouth again, before moving back down.  His tongue pushes into Jasmine, and she cries out his name again.  She can’t stop herself and pushes her hips into his face.  She needs him in a million ways, and needs him now.  The tension is too much, twisting inside her, her arousal painful as he works her.  Then his fingers, oh Maker, his fingers!  He pushes one gently inside her as he focuses more on the pearl, curling his finger just so, hitting a spot inside her that makes her toes curl.  She cries out louder now, her back arching, pressing into his hand.  In, curl, out, in, curl, out.  She cries again, and another wave of electricity passes over them, her eyes rolling back.  In, curl, out, in, curl, out.  Suck, pressure, flick, lick.  A second finger!  She can feel herself stretch and loves it.  In, curl, out, in, curl, out.  Suck, pressure, flick, lick.  Her hips move with his hand, match pace, rhythm.  He massages one of her breasts with his other hand, rubbing her nipple between his finger.  Then it hits her.  A sensation she’s never in her life felt.  Her hips buck up, hard, legs wrapping tightly around his head as her toes curl impossibly tight.  She can’t breathe, and a stronger wave of magic passes over her, over him, through them.  It’s warm, it tingles, it’s sharp.  He doesn’t stop!  
  
A noise not quite human, not her, comes from deep inside her and out her mouth.  She doesn’t know what she’s say, but he hears his name and pushes his fingers in deeply, feeling her tighten around them, pulsating, almost pulling.  Then she releases his head, her body now no longer with any strength.  His face is soaked, his hand and the sheets wet with her, and he smile as he wipes his face with his forearm.  She’s exhausted, covered in sweat.  It drips in beads down her body, her legs, all over her.  Yes, he’s done well.  Adjusting his position between her legs, he bends down and kisses her tenderly, sweetly, and she opens her mouth to him.  She’s hardly able to move.  Opening her eyes she looks into his own.  She sees his question and pulls him closer to her with what strength she has.  
  
"I need all of you."  
  
Then he’s slowly moving into her.  A bestial growl comes from him, deep inside, and stops for a moment.  She moves her arms around him, her hands on his back, moving down as far as she can and pulls him closer  He moves deeper inside, and oh, Maker, she feels good.  Warm, tight, wet, and he moves back out, then in, a little further this time, out, and deeper.  He takes his time, listening to her moan, whimper, and beg for more.  Begging for more of him, for completeness.  He moves faster, deeper, until she’s able to take his full length.  Her nails are in his back, pulling him, digging into him, trying to find some measure of control she doesn’t have.  Her legs come up and around him, tight around his waist.  He moves down lower, resting on his elbows.  
  
She wants more, harder, faster, and begs for it.  Her nails dig in as she releases a wave of electricity over them.  The stimulation drives him and his pace picks up.  Now instinct kicks in, and all reason leaves him.  His mouth is on her’s as she cries out again, then pulls away to breathe because oh, Maker, he needs air.  His breathing is faster, harder, and they match rhythm, match pace, meet at that right spot.  His sweat is dripping down off his body and onto her’s now.  He feels his skin break under her nails, and it feels amazing.  He wraps his arms around her and pounds into her.  He can’t stop, not now, and she tightens around his full length, pulsating around him, as another wave crashes over her, and the candles in the room flare brighter for a few moments, some of them melting down completely.  Closer, he’s closer now.  He buries his face into the hair, tasting her sweat in his mouth.  Growling loudly now, his hands dig into her shoulders, pulling her down as he pushes in and releases.  His teeth sink into her flesh, hard, and she cries out again as her nails dig into his back, tearing his skin further, blood running freely over his flesh.  He can’t move as he plummets into the sweet abyss, spilling himself inside her.  
  
He slowly comes back to himself, and pulls away from her just far enough to see Jasmine’s face.  Her face is flushed and warm, crying freely as she smiles.  Before he has a chance to react she kisses him, gently, her energy gone.  “Are you sure you’re not a mage?”  Her voice is hoarse from crying out.  
  
Hardly able to nod and speak, “very sure.”  He moves his hips back, slowly pulling out of her.  The sensation is almost painful, too much too soon.  
  
Just as he’s about to roll off her she stops him having noticed the blood now dripping from his back onto the bed.  It’s under her nails and on her fingers.  Her face pales as she looks at him, “I think…I think I may have hurt you.  Let me see.”  
  
Alistair kisses her softly, “don’t worry about it.  I’m more worried about you.”  He looks down between them, but sees no blood.  A very audible sigh comes from him.  “I did everything right.  Oh, thank the Maker.”  He nearly falls down beside her, laying on his side, looking at her.  She hasn’t moved, her breathing weak, her body too heavy for her to move.  “Leliana told me if I didn’t do things right you’d bleed.”  
  
"She told me, too, and that she’d hurt you if I ended up bleeding."  Turning to look at him, "but I think it was the other way around."  Tears mix with sweat now, and she smiles.  "You got your instructions from Leliana and Zevran, didn’t you?"  
  
Alistair chuckles and blushes deeply as he runs his hand over the scars on her chest.  “Yup, and considering you nearly set the room on fire I’d say I did everything right.”  Kissing her softly on her lips, “I love you.”  
  
"I love you too."  She tries moving closer to him, but has no strength left.  
  
Seeing her struggle he pulls her closer to him.  “I think we need another bath.”  Alistair can barely contain the chuckle.  
  
"If you can carry me to the tub I’ll have no problem with another bath."  She smiles at him, hardly able to keep her eyes open.  "There is no possible way I can walk any distance."  
  
Alistair chuckles as he moves off the bed, gently lifting Jasmine off the bed.  His body feels like lead, his legs made of melted butter, but he manages to carry her across the room to the bath.  Finding enough mana to warm the water to steaming again as soon as she’s set down, it takes every effort not to fall asleep.  Alistair carefully makes his way to the door, using every piece of furniture along the way to aid him. If he falls there’s no way he’s getting up.  Opening the door just enough to peek his head out, he spots a servant nearby.  “Excuse me, young man, but would you mind changing our sheets?”  The servant immediately turns red, and Alistair now knows it’s likely the entire Keep heard their lovemaking.  
  
"Certainly.  I’ll return shortly."  He bolts off at a dead run.  
  
Alistair slowly makes his way to the tub, sinking in and wincing as the soapy water gets into the wounds on his back.  Across from him Jasmine is barely awake.  “I think everyone within a ten mile radius heard us, love.”  
  
"You followed Zevran and Leliana’s instructions to the letter and made love to a mage.  How is this unexpected?"  Even as she says it her face reddens as deeply as his own.  
  
"Oh, Maker, that servant is going to have some stories to tell when he’s done changing our sheets."  Then he starts laughing, "at least none of our traveling companions are staying here tonight.  The would never leave us alone about this!"  Leaning back he hisses between his teeth.  "You know what, I think I’d like you to heal my back after all.  
  
Now Jasmine laughs, “very well, my all-mighty and powerful lover.”  
  
They remain in the tub for some time, watching the servant nervously change the sheets.  Following after him is another with a tray of food and wine…except the second doesn’t act like a servant and looks oddly familiar.  
  
"No…"  Alistair’s eyes widen.  Jasmine has fallen asleep, head propped up on a towel.  
  
The servant approaches close enough for Alistair to recognize her as Leliana.  “Good work.”  She tosses him a lyrium potion before leaving.  He catches it easily enough, but now knows she will never leave them alone about tonight.  
  
Waking Jasmine up he hands her the potion, “drink up.”

**Author's Note:**

> Drawn by the amazing [Lavahanje](http://lavahanje.tumblr.com/post/112570490921/commission-for-chaosfay-of-her-warden-jasmine-with)


End file.
